


of our lucky stars

by xuxikr



Series: One Month, One Fic: 2019 [8]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Idols, Implied Anxiety, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, fluff if you squint, not as bad as it seems i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 22:49:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19935808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xuxikr/pseuds/xuxikr
Summary: [BREAKING] SEOUL — The 19-year-old SM Entertainment soloist, Donghyuck, has an upcoming collaboration with the same aged, Chinese LabelV idol, Renjun. No date has been set yet for official release, but their social media outlets simultaneously released the announcement at 12PM KST today.





	of our lucky stars

**Author's Note:**

> therapist: and what do we do when we feel like this?
> 
> me: write renhyuck
> 
> therapist: no

The first time Renjun meets Donghyuck, he did not like him.

He figures it is only normal, for Renjun to build a natural fortress around him when it comes to dealing with other idols, to stay professional and avoid deep connections to avoid subsequent rumours. But it seems, as Renjun comes to find out, any sort of defence is futile when it comes to Donghyuck.

“ _Hi!_ ” Donghyuck’s voice is chirp and high-pitched, as he greets him in practiced Chinese. “ _I’m Donghyuck, I’m glad to be here!_ ”

Renjun looks exasperatedly at his manager from across the table, the contract signing for their collaboration has just started and Renjun already can’t stomach Donghyuck’s personality. His manager raises his brow at him in response, and Renjun clears his throat.

“Uh... You can speak Korean, you know?”

Donghyuck turns to him, bright smile not leaving. “I know! You’re fluent in Korean, I looked you up on Naver, you know?”

Renjun gives a tired smile, turns his attention back to the papers in front of him and pretends he doesn’t wish to go home.

A collaboration with South Korea’s favourite boy seems like a good idea on paper until it happens. But Renjun has to push through, the contract is signed, the schedules are arranged and more than that, his things are being moved into the apartment next to Donghyuck for the duration of their collaboration.

“I’m really glad we’re neighbours.” Donghyuck appears from nowhere next to him, as he’s helping his manager haul his luggage into the new apartment.

Renjun suppresses his surprise at Donghyuck’s presence, presses his lips together and turns to the It boy with a tight smile. “Yes, yes... me too.”

“It’s too bad we didn’t become roommates. I’ve always wanted to have a roommate, I get kind of jealous of idol groups, you know? They get to spend so many time with their friends. But I’ll tell you this—some idol groups really don’t get along, they’re just in it for the job so I think I’m kind of glad—”

“Donghyuck,” Renjun cuts him off, Donghyuck’s words going straight into an ear and out the other. “I’m really sorry but—I’m so tired, and jetlagged—” A lie, “so if you don’t mind… I’d really like to go inside and rest now.”

Donghyuck blinks at him, and Renjun almost misses the way his jaw locks as he steps back. “Sure, sure. You know my number, hit me up if you need company.”

“Thanks.”

His career is in shambles.

He does not want to admit it, or even verbalize it in the fear of it coming true—but Renjun thinks he’s unlucky.

Unlucky, in the sense that everything always goes wrong for him in the entirety of his solo career. During his debut two years ago, a great tragedy occurred in Beijing which caused the entire country to go into mourning. On his first full album, a problem happened at the printing of the albums. And most recently, the variety show he’s supposed to become a permanent member of just got cancelled due to inappropriate content, apparently.

He’s not unpopular per se—he’s just… really unlucky.

And the truth is, Renjun’s just waiting when this collaboration will come blowing up in his face.

Donghyuck’s brilliant at dancing.

Things are quite different in Korea, Renjun figures. They receive a demo version of the song first (and, unsurprisingly, it’s good, _really good_ ) and form a choreography out of it. He didn’t look Donghyuck up out of pure courtesy so when he discovers that he contributes to his choreographies, it stuns Renjun just a little.

Renjun’s not bad at dancing either, he’s always performed in school events and took extra classes of ballet alongside jazz during his trainee years. He may not be as exceptional at it as the main dancer, but he keeps up with every step and beat that Donghyuck leads.

Donghyuck leads, and as it comes to seem, Renjun follows.

And as he finds, surprisingly, Renjun doesn’t mind this.

Donghyuck is serious when he works, completely focused and artistic down to the movements of his fingertips. Renjun finds out that Donghyuck likes to use his arms when dancing, likes to elaborate on the shape of his torso when he moves and he tries not to watch from the mirror.

He wonders if Donghyuck ever did ballet too.

The choreography goes fast, fast—popping, and then slow, slow—twirling. And with the beat and the pace changing that fast, it’s sure to tire them out quickly.

And it does tire them out effectively. Donghyuck’s knocked down on the floor after their third run and Renjun’s using the bars to keep himself upright.

He’s used to being alone, to motivating himself when it gets hard and when it gets tiring, so just as Renjun’s about to excuse himself to the bathroom for some pep talk, Donghyuck pipes up from the floor.

“Good job today, Injunnie!”

Renjun blames the heat in his cheeks to dancing.

“You too, Donghyuck.”

“Heh. I got your Korean name right, didn’t I? I looked it up!”

“You did.”

His manager leaves him alone at the apartment sometimes because he has _manager_ things to do. Renjun’s unsure if they’re official business, but he doesn’t dare ask if he gets the place to himself for the entirety of the day.

South Korea is like a second home to him, with so many of his relatives living here, he always used to visit every summer vacation when he was younger. Hence, even if the living area is quite different, even if the language spoken and the shows on the television are different, it’s familiar in a comforting sense.

The show on the television he’s watching idly as he eats cereal for lunch reminds him of the time in his childhood when he tried out for SM Entertainment, Donghyuck’s company. He didn’t get in, unfortunately—or fortunately because after that, all his favourite Chinese idols from said company filed lawsuits.

Maybe it’s different now, Renjun hopes. And it’s not like LabelV has given him away to SM Entertainment, it’s just a temporary collaboration, just a single and a mini album.

As Renjun watches seven young boys sing about chewing gum (of all things) on the television, a knock on his door distracts him.

It can only be one person.

His manager never knocks, and he hasn’t ordered anything. Plus, Renjun’s sure he can almost recognize that annoying knocking pattern anywhere now.

“Hello,” he greets, the person he expected to be there standing right behind the door when he opens it, “how may I help you?”

Donghyuck has a grin to his lips, boyish charms exuding from the lazy way he has his hair slicked back with a backwards cap on his head. Renjun’s not in any form to be judging his comfortable style as he himself is only in a ratty t-shirt and old boxers. They understand each other in this way.

“You’re friendly today.” Donghyuck teases, leaning against the door frame and Renjun responds by closing the door on his face. Donghyuck stops him before he closes it fully, laughing and wedging his body into the small gap.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!”

“What do you want?”

“My mother came over last night and brought a lot of side dishes. I was making lunch and wondered if you’d like to come over and eat with me? I promise her cooking’s heavenly, purely homemade—the taste of childhood and of home you never even know you missed—”

He thinks back to the bowl of cereal he left on the sofa and he doesn’t even debate his decision. Although, to save face, Renjun acts like he hates it, arms crossed and all. “Fine! Fine… I’m coming with you.”

“Yay!”

When the recording for their first single comes, Renjun is full of nerves.

It is pretty understandable. The team consists of producers from SM Entertainment, people Renjun has never met and never in his wildest dreams did he expect for this to happen. Granted that he has had quite a while to prepare himself for this mentally and vocally, still, he can’t help if his heart is hammering in his chest.

But Donghyuck—he seems so calm and collected, playing games on his phone, laying backwards lazily on the couch as they wait for the A&R team to arrive. His figure is a stark contrast to Renjun’s who sits beside him, hunched over himself and clasping his poor water bottle for dear life.

His manager seems to notice this, so he takes Renjun out of the room for a minute for a breather.

It works, like it always does. His manager always knows what to do or what to say whenever Renjun gets stuck in his head. He doesn’t know what to do without him.

When he comes back into the studio, he feels more refreshed, more like he can breathe and Donghyuck has kept his phone away, looking anxiously at the door and smiling in what seems to be relief when Renjun steps back inside.

“Renjun, where’d you go?” Donghyuck asks curiously as Renjun settles on his previous spot. This time, Renjun takes out his phone to play games too.

“Outside. Just needed to breathe.”

He feels Donghyuck’s eyes on him, heavy and laced with worry. Renjun doesn’t want to look to confirm his gut feeling but Donghyuck reaches out, pats him on the knee and speaks. “It’ll be fine, you’ll do great.”

Renjun smiles at him.

And if Renjun is unlucky, Donghyuck is lucky.

It appears as if whatever Donghyuck says comes true because the recording goes by smoothly without any major delays. He’s asked to repeat a high note twice but that’s about it, other than comments on how he should do his adlibs for the doubling, all Renjun hears from the team is compliments.

And the team, well, involves Donghyuck.

Donghyuck, who’s had eight music show wins on his most recent comeback, Donghyuck who won King of Masked Singer a year ago, Donghyuck who’s renowned by the entire South Korea to be a great vocalist praises him each chance he gets.

Renjun’s used to being alone during recordings, suffering through scolding alone, through receiving compliments alone, but right now, he doesn’t seem to mind Donghyuck’s presence. In fact, maybe, just maybe—he’s getting used to it.

Admittedly, Renjun likes being dolled up. He likes the attention given to him, likes the way the make up makes his features stand out, likes the way his hair is made pretty without him having to do anything. They don’t do it too differently from what he’s used to but having Donghyuck next to him getting dolled up and pretty is what makes it all different.

Donghyuck has freshly dyed hair now, his hair clean cut silver a contrast to the pitch black of Renjun’s long hair. If Donghyuck looked boyish with his brown locks, now, Donghyuck looks absolutely stunning.

Not that Renjun would admit that, really.

Donghyuck has a fun dynamic with everyone around him, and he never fails to include Renjun on the conversation too. Whatever topic it may be, Donghyuck has a witty comment that has everyone doubling over in laughter. Renjun’s really thankful for him.

Renjun’s made to wear a satin suit, three buttons undone just so it shows a bit of chest. Donghyuck’s wearing denim on denim and Renjun’s not sure how he’s making it work, but perhaps it’s because of his experience in being an idol that makes him look extra attractive even in such a combination.

Donghyuck takes his solo shots first, and Renjun gets to watch from behind the monitor as photos upon photos of Donghyuck appear on the screen.

Just like with everything he does, Donghyuck is good at this.

He’s good for posing for the cameras, good at getting his message across even without having to say anything. It’s an innate talent, Renjun thinks—because he remembers the rigorous training he has had to have just so he can perfect the steely camera gaze. But with Donghyuck, everything he does seems so effortless that he makes it look like it’s just breathing.

Renjun catches himself more captivated than he wishes.

Soon enough, Donghyuck’s shoot is done and now it’s Renjun’s turn in front of the camera.

Donghyuck pats him on the shoulder for good luck when they meet in the middle, and Renjun finds his position in the middle of the shoot quickly.

He expects Donghyuck to sit right where he had been, but instead of being behind the monitors, Donghyuck’s standing not a few feet away from the photographer, watching Renjun with an amused smile.

He tries to ignore him, but it’s hard when Donghyuck’s not even one bit embarrassed at the way he’s _checking out_ Renjun. It’s the full package, the eyes roaming, the unconscious lip licking, the bobbing of his adam’s apple. Renjun feels himself sweat even under the light material of the satin suit.

Still, he tries his best to pose—to emulate the vibe of their single, fierce and fiery, hot and a little bit sexy. And when he really gets into it, he finds that he doesn’t mind the audience.

But too soon, the photographer calls for Donghyuck once more, and the session for their duo pictures is to start. Donghyuck strides over to him with a grin, drapes an arm over his shoulders when he gets close enough.

And it’s just what the photographer wants, for them to be close enough to look like more than friends but less than lovers, or perhaps it’s just that—for them to look like lovers. And, well, if Donghyuck is good at this, Renjun can be better than him at this.

They’re standing next to each other, with directions from the photographer to get closer, and get closer they do. Donghyuck manoeuvres so he’s standing behind Renjun, arms wrapped around his lithe waist and Renjun takes this opportunity to push back against him, head resting upon Donghyuck’s shoulders.

It’s okay for the most part, but then, Donghyuck starts to whisper in his ear. “I didn’t know you can look that…”

It surprises Renjun just a little, so he straightens up and looks at Donghyuck from the side, a tentative raise of his brow prefixes his question, coaxing the completion of the sentence out of Donghyuck. “That _what_?”

They’re so close, Donghyuck’s warm breath that smells of bitter coffee fans over his own lips. Renjun has to hold his breath from the way Donghyuck’s looking up at him, and he doesn’t miss the way Donghyuck’s eyes shift downwards just a little at his glossed lips. “That… attractive.”

“I am full of surprises.” Renjun grins, pushing him away just slightly for it to be seen as a joke. They have an audience after all, and Renjun can’t allow himself to get too close—or else… the unthinkable might happen.

Donghyuck’s fast reflexes catches his wrist instantly, pulls him back in so they’re pressed chest to chest with similar grins. “I’m sure you are.”

The biggest difference between home and here are the promotions. Here, every week they have a music show to go to, every week they have the chance to perform their song in national television, every week they can meet fans and greet their supporters. It’s the one reason why sometimes, just sometimes in fleeting moments, Renjun regrets not tying hard enough for SM Entertainment.

It’s amusing really, how the MCs all act surprised in front of the cameras when he banters with them in fluent Korean when they greeted him in the dressing room and have probably been briefed about his fluency. The support of the fans is overwhelming too. Back home, Renjun doesn’t have much opportunities to perform, but here, this seems to be the grind.

“We’ve been together since 6AM.” Donghyuck tells their viewers on their current live broadcast, just the two of them with Donghyuck’s and Renjun’s managers standing where the cameras can’t see them. It’s a marketing tactic, to make them appear as close and natural as possible, and honestly, Renjun doesn’t even mind even if it means he’s working overtime.

“Right.” Renjun agrees, leaning his head on Donghyuck’s head just a little, so tufts of their hair are brushing against each other. “I’m tired of seeing you now.”

Donghyuck makes an offended gasp, his cherry red lips agape as he looks at Renjun with eyes blown wide. Renjun responds to this with laughter, and even if there’s a camera around, and even if forty-thousand people are watching them live, Renjun doesn’t even have to pretend around Donghyuck.

“You’re so mean to me!” Donghyuck pouts. “Everyone, this is how Renjun treats me.” He coos at the camera and Renjun makes a fake gagging noise.

The hearts reach ten million just as Renjun retches.

They’re a hit.

Everyone is crazy for their tandem.

At least, that’s the feedback they get from their managers, and they’re not at all lying. Sometimes, even though he knows it’s not advised and it’s not healthy, Renjun scrolls through social media to look at comments about him and Donghyuck.

To his surprise, a lot of them are positive. Of course, there’s the inevitable irrational hate, but the love and acceptance and anticipation for their duo easily overcome the bad.

But… still, even if he’s happy, even if he’s singing and dancing as much as he wants, even if he’s appearing on multiple shows every week with Donghyuck, even if their song is hitting the ceilings of music charts, Renjun can’t help but feel lonely.

Loneliness comes to him in soft caresses, in gentle reminders that no matter how much Renjun feels as if he belongs, he’s stuck in a foreign land unable to go home. Loneliness is gentle until it’s not, until it wraps its chilling fingers around Renjun’s throat and pulls him to the deepest, darkest abyss of his mind.

With his manager doing _manager_ stuff at this hour of the night, with it being too late hence his mother cannot answer his calls, with Renjun’s brain clouded and muddled with the want to be with someone—Renjun does the unthinkable.

He’s not this desperate, and he knows he has dealt with loneliness before, but the thought of having Donghyuck just a door away from him, warm and inviting and charming—it’s enough to have Renjun step out of his apartment and walk over to Donghyuck’s.

But before Renjun can even knock, as if Donghyuck knows he’s standing there stupidly behind his door, his door opens as Renjun’s fist hangs in mid-air.

They greet each other in equal shock, the sides of Donghyuck’s lips tugging up into a smile but the sight of Renjun’s bleary eyes make them fall back down in a frown. “Renjun? Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

Renjun sniffles. “What are _you_ doing?” He gestures to Donghyuck’s outfit, sweats and a hoodie on. Now, this is considered comfortable enough for sleep save for the running shoes he has on.

“I was about to go for a ramen run.” He answers, Renjun’s still looking at Donghyuck’s white sneakers.

“You’re allowed to do that?”

“Technically no, but who can tell me what to do and what not to do, right? It’s just ramen anyway, it’ll go down the toilet in the morning!” Donghyuck’s words are cheery, an obvious attempt to make Renjun smile and Renjun doesn’t deny this sight from Donghyuck.

When Donghyuck sees the smile, he relents. “So, what are you doing here?” He’s asking for clarification, yet he’s already opening his door wide enough to welcome Renjun into his place.

Renjun steps inside, although hesitantly. He’s aware that Donghyuck’s manager doesn’t live with him, so he has the place all to his own. Renjun doesn’t know if he’s to be comforted or worried by that fact, but he pushes that to the very far back corner of his mind.

He doesn’t know how else to answer Donghyuck without being completely vulnerable, so he answers in the most Renjun way he knows he can. He turns around, cocks a brow at Donghyuck as he sinks on his couch. “Wanna Netflix and chill?”

There’s a flicker of shock in Donghyuck’s expression, but he masks this with fake disgust as he closes his door behind him and toes his shoes off. “Excuse me?!” Donghyuck’s tone is scandalized, and Renjun already feels loneliness prying its fingers away from him. “You think I’m _that_ easy?”

Renjun leans back on the couch, arms spread open as Donghyuck settles on the space too next to him. But he doesn’t mind, not at all. “What?” Renjun looks at Donghyuck, their faces too close for comfort but neither of them back away. “Do I need to seduce you?”

Now, Renjun doesn’t know where the joking stops, and flirting begins. But right now, with Donghyuck’s breathing heavy against his own, he’s sure that this is where the atmosphere shifts.

Donghyuck shifts in his seat so that he’s facing Renjun with his entire body, his leg propped up on the couch as it rests upon Renjun’s lap. There’s a small smile on his face, eyes scanning over Renjun’s features and if Donghyuck leans forward just a little bit more, their noses would brush. “Do you want to?”

This is the kind of thing that makes or breaks friendships—or whatever this _thing_ they have going on, and all the warning signs and red alerts in Renjun’s brain are telling him to stop, stop, _stop_ —but he’s not Renjun for nothing, and Renjun _always_ challenges Donghyuck back. “You act as if you aren’t already seduced.”

Donghyuck swallows upon hearing Renjun’s words, irises glimmering with something dark and heavy—something that speaks of irrevocable want, and Renjun is goddamned if he doesn’t feel the same.

It’s Renjun that breaks the tension, breaks the hesitation and the dancing in between the lines—it’s uncalculated, it’s a risk, it’s not something he’d do but he does it anyway. Renjun grabs the back of Donghyuck’s neck, tugs him forward with the strings of his hoodie and seals their lips in a heated kiss.

And when Renjun kisses him, all of Donghyuck’s inhibitions are thrown out of the window.

Maybe they’ve seen this coming, maybe they’ve dreamt about this, maybe they’ve always wanted this to happen—but all Renjun knows is that it’s been a long time coming. Donghyuck kisses him back with as much force that Renjun invites him with, and just like with everything he ever does, Donghyuck is good at this.

Donghyuck leads him, like he always does. Donghyuck pulls him up so he’s seated on his lap, and Renjun wraps his arms around Donghyuck’s neck, compliant to his every will. But Renjun never goes down without a fight, so he tugs on Donghyuck’s lower lip and slips his tongue inside his mouth when he complies.

Kissing Donghyuck feels like fire, his skin his warm and sucking on his tongue makes Renjun feel as if he’s burning from the inside out. Donghyuck’s fingers dig into the muscle on Renjun’s hips, kneading when Renjun licks into the roof of his mouth.

He doesn’t know who pulls away first to breathe, but Renjun doesn’t waste time being separated from Donghyuck and connects his lips to the skin on Donghyuck’s neck. He’s embarrassed to admit that he’s imagined this before, how it’d feel to kiss the tanned skin littered with moles like a damn constellation. Donghyuck’s a personification of everything that Renjun has ever loved, and Renjun doesn’t want to waste a single second not letting him know of this.

“I-Injun…” Donghyuck lets out a guttural moan when Renjun licks a stripe up his neck, sucking and biting on a spot low enough to be hidden by a shirt. “God—”

Donghyuck sounds absolutely ruined, and when Renjun pulls away to look at him, his lips are pink from the kiss and his eyes are bleary from want. Renjun tries not to smile at himself. “You look so pretty like this, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck smiles at him, half-lidded as he pulls Renjun in by his ass and the movement effectively lets Renjun know of the situation in Donghyuck’s pants. “Glad you think so, I hope you can take responsibility.”

“Oh,” Renjun’s palms are flat against Donghyuck’s chest, mapping out the lean muscle as he circles his hips just a little, “I’m _very_ responsible.”

Donghyuck shuts him up with a kiss again, pressed so close to each other Renjun doesn’t know where he ends and Donghyuck begins. They’re fuelled with wanton desire, with primal want and with the pent-up attraction for each other. All of this come blowing up into this moment, of Renjun grinding his hips down against Donghyuck’s, and Donghyuck meeting him in the middle.

Renjun pulls away from Donghyuck’s lips so he can breathe, the friction on his nether regions combined with Donghyuck’s kisses are far too much—so instead, he settles on kissing Donghyuck’s ear, and even at his state, he whispers. “Like this… r-really?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck breathes out, his voice sounding wrecked that it sends electricity right down to Renjun’s loins, “like the rabid teenagers that we are.”

Just like that, with Renjun on top of Donghyuck, with Donghyuck holding Renjun so he doesn’t fall—they both come apart in each other’s holds, moaning each other’s names like a prayer. It’s a spark, an ignition, the beginning of something else.

Donghyuck presses idle kisses to his neck, as Renjun comes down from his high with his face hidden in Donghyuck’s shoulder. Renjun manages to find his voice again, albeit muffled by Donghyuck’s hoodie. “You know… the truth is… I got lonely.”

Donghyuck is quiet for a second, but then there are soft caresses on top of his head, and a peck on his cheek. “If you get lonely again, don’t be afraid to come to me.”

Renjun nods against him and the defences Renjun put up since coming to South Korea have been broken down, all at Donghyuck’s complete mercy.

And Renjun comes to Donghyuck again and again, not just when he’s lonely—but Renjun finds himself looking for Donghyuck just _because_ he wants to be near him. He knows it’s dangerous, the game they are playing and the way Renjun’s letting himself fall for it again, and again—the way he allows Donghyuck to see him in his most vulnerable, to _turn_ him into his most vulnerable—but Renjun doesn’t want to stop.

It’s not just the physical too, Renjun finds himself unravelling even his darkest thoughts to Donghyuck. And Donghyuck understands, Donghyuck lets him know he’s not going to judge him—and perhaps, this is all Renjun has ever wanted. Validation, attention, and everything that Donghyuck is. He’s irresistible, and Renjun’s a fool if he’s to say no.

So they find themselves wedged in the oddest places. They sneak quickies in bathroom cubicles, share hidden make-out sessions in private dressing rooms, and Renjun still hasn’t forgiven him for the time he pulled Renjun into an empty janitorial closet just so he can give him a smooch.

The best thing about his dynamic with Donghyuck is that no one ever suspects anything. They’re just collaborators being close, and everyone eats it up. Maybe they are friends, maybe they are lovers—they don’t talk about it but Renjun knows there’s an understanding with every time their skin touches.

It’s addicting, almost, the way Donghyuck makes him feel, the way Renjun feels when he’s with Donghyuck. So Renjun always makes sure they’re careful, always makes sure there are no prying eyes, he wants to keep going, wants to keep doing this.

But they make the biggest mistake of their lives when Donghyuck kisses him in an empty parking lot and Renjun kisses him back like he’s his salvation.

His career is going to be in ruins.

He knows that he’s unlucky, no matter how lucky he felt in the past months being with Donghyuck, he hasn’t forgotten that tiny fact about himself. Donghyuck has made him feel like the brightest star, as if the universe has shifted its course so the planets and the stars can align for him and Donghyuck. But as it turns out, he truly is _unlucky_.

Unlucky because Renjun’s manager angrily wakes him up one night, dragging him to the car and giving him the silent treatment. Renjun knows it can’t be good—and he confirms it’s not good when they arrive at the office, and there, seated in the round table is Donghyuck, his manager, and executives Renjun should greet but is too scared to even look at.

He looks at Donghyuck, who looks just as beaten up as him and Donghyuck looks back at him with so much emotions all at once it knocks the air out of Renjun’s lungs. And he knows that dreadful feeling in his stomach, it’s similar to the way he felt when his mother caught him in his bedroom with a guy in high school. _Like he’s dirty, like he’s done something wrong, like he doesn’t deserve to exist._

There’s silence so loud Renjun feels as if he’s going deaf, as if he’s going to drown in it and he can’t even reach out to Donghyuck to save him.

Then, there’s noise—Donghyuck’s manager slams down a folder of photographs, the papers spilling out from its open slit due to the impact it makes against the table. When his eyes find what’s in the folder, Renjun almost wants to faint on the spot.

There are various photographs of him and Donghyuck in a parking lot that looks awfully familiar, photos of them holding hands, photos of them with arms draped around each other. And that’s okay, for friends—but what’s not okay are the photos of them kissing behind a car, of Donghyuck’s hand cupping his ass, of him sucking a hickey into Donghyuck’s collarbone. They’d been stupid, careless—and now it’s going to cost them their career.

The executive speaks, tells them that they have paid the news company to keep this information hidden and to delete all evidence, and although that brings some sort of comfort, his next words don’t.

The contract is cancelled, they’re finishing up the promotions for the single, but the mini album isn’t pushing through. Renjun’s going back to China the moment promotions end and they won’t be allowed to talk to each other after that.

It’s what everyone thinks is best.

Donghyuck, so, so far away from Renjun, lets out a whimper but doesn’t cry. Renjun doesn’t even know when he started crying.

And this is what he has prepared for, maybe, for his happiness to come blowing up in his face.

It’s not agreed upon, but their managers have taken it upon themselves to not allow them to talk to each other after that dreadful meeting. Renjun’s phone has been confiscated and his manager guards him like a hawk 24/7. He figures it’s the same for Donghyuck, but he really has no way of knowing.

He feels like he’s suffocating, and Renjun needs to get out before he does something he’ll regret. So later that night, when Renjun has made sure that his manager’s asleep like a log, Renjun goes for a ramen run.

This is the only time in his entire life he’s ever felt like this for someone, and for that to come so quick yet to be taken away quicker. This is the only time he’s ever felt someone twenty feet away feel miles apart from him. Maybe it’s love.

Donghyuck once informed him about an inconspicuous convenience store three blocks down where all his ramen runs happen. Renjun makes his way to the store through muscle memory, his hoodie covering most of his identity.

Renjun walks to the ramen aisle, and bumps shoulders with someone not that taller than him—but he tenses, grips his cup noodles tight it almost explodes when he smells that familiar scent of cologne.

“Well.” There’s a certain cadence in Donghyuck’s voice as Renjun looks at him, terrified of all the consequence they might face just by standing here together. “Look who’s stealing my ramen run tradition!”

Renjun tries not to smile, but as he’s come to learn in these past months, it’s so hard to fight instinct when Donghyuck is around. “We should stop meeting in semi-public places.”

They bump elbow as they select their ramen, and the extra ingredients they want to add into the noodles. “True, but when did rules ever stop us?”

And he’s not at all wrong. When have they ever let rules stop them? When did Renjun let Donghyuck get away with all the bad ideas? Maybe he’s a fool, but he’s only a fool for Donghyuck.

They sit across each other in an empty table, the young cashier not paying any attention to them after they have paid for their purchase. The table is small and their knees bump under it. They act like friends, but kiss like lovers and Renjun misses the way Donghyuck holds him close—especially now when he needs him the most.

But he can settle for this—for late-night ramen runs in rundown convenience stores.

They don’t talk, Renjun can’t find the words to speak. How can he say goodbye to someone he’s been at his most vulnerable with? How can he pretend to be only _just_ co-workers when Donghyuck has seen him nude and naked? How can he recognize the elephant in the room—the looming farewell that must be shared?

Only the sound of a pop song playing through the speakers is heard in the store, until Donghyuck speaks, bumps his feet with Renjun for emphasis. “I’m sorry it came to this.”

“Don’t say sorry.” Renjun says, a beat too quickly but doesn’t look up at Donghyuck. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he does. “We kind of saw this coming, honestly.”

“Still,” Donghyuck nudges his knee, “I got you in trouble and now… it’s… it’s all shit.”

Renjun stabs his bowl with his chopsticks, startles Donghyuck as he looks up at him. “You didn’t get me in trouble. It’s a conscious choice—brave of you to assume I’ll let you drag me into things without my permission.”

Donghyuck shakes his head, but with no real offense to it as his fond smile deflects any possible negativity Renjun might even think of. “I’m going to miss you.”

Now, here’s where things get soft—when Renjun doesn’t know if he can hold back his tears any longer. He sniffs them back up and blinks them away, anyway. “We still have a week left, right?”

“Right.”

“So let’s the make the most out of it, and if you’re lucky, maybe a miracle will happen.”

Donghyuck brings his bowl to his lips and sips the broth. “Well, I _am_ lucky.”

“I hope you are.”

And as promised, Donghyuck and Renjun make the most out of the last week of their promotions. They’re inseparable when they’re together, Donghyuck sits on Renjun’s lap in waiting rooms while Renjun plays his games on his phone. No one bats an eyelash, this is an everyday thing and Renjun almost wishes it can be like this all the time.

In their live broadcasts too, Renjun’s touchy and puts his hand on Donghyuck’s leg in every chance he gets. He ignores the glare from his own manager. He only has days left, after all. He’ll let himself have this, he’ll let himself have Donghyuck. Even if it’s selfishly, Renjun holds on to Donghyuck until the memory of him is etched in every crevices of his brain.

It’s the best week of their lives, despite of their situation. Their fans are clamouring for the mini-album, insisting that it doesn’t make sense they’re not pushing through but Renjun has found himself to be okay with this.

They still don’t talk about _them_ but there’s a promise with every look and every touch. They grow closer, and Renjun braves it sometimes and kisses Donghyuck in bathroom stalls. But just as their hearts begin to beat again, just as their souls begin to touch—Renjun’s manager shows him his plane ticket back to Beijing.

He’s had the greatest week, and he’s had the time to collect himself—but that’s not quite enough time to make Renjun forget about Donghyuck. So, he convinces himself to push everything back into that corner of his mind, safekeep it until he’s ready to face these emotions again.

The inertia of it all makes Renjun lose footing, and Renjun expects to wake up on the morning of his flight devoid of any feelings. But when Donghyuck shows up in front of his door, dressed in his best and holding a paper bag of goodies—Renjun’s feelings come stumbling back in the front row again.

“What are you doing here?” Renjun asks, his manager wheeling his luggage behind him. He half-expects his manager to drag him away, but that doesn’t happen.

“I’m coming with you—to the airport. I’ll send you off.” Donghyuck says, and it’s obvious he’s trying to hold back his tears.

And maybe this is the last time Renjun will see Donghyuck in person for years, so Renjun grabs the opportunity and links his arms with Donghyuck as they go down the elevator. If this is the only day Renjun can act like lovers with Donghyuck in public—then he’ll surely act like it.

They’s inseparable even in the car, and when they arrive to the airport, the flock of fans and media is overwhelming. Donghyuck holds him close, an arm draped protectively over his shoulder and Renjun tucks his head underneath Donghyuck’s hold. It’s comforting, it’s warm, Renjun relishes in it.

The flashing lights don’t stop even as they get inside the airport, and Donghyuck doesn’t let go of him until his flight is called for boarding. They say their goodbyes in hushed whispers, and Renjun doesn’t want to prolong this pain anymore so he hugs him one last time before he turns away to walk to his gate, not looking back.

And maybe now is not the right time, maybe the universe shifted on its course, but he knows—as long as he has Donghyuck, he has the luckiest star of them all.

_[BREAKING] SEOUL — SM Entertainment’s golden boy, Donghyuck, terminates his contract with said company this morning. More details to follow._

The tiny café lodged in the busy streets of Jilin is a popular hit among fans. Technically, Renjun’s mother runs the place, but it’s decorated with posters and albums Renjun has released throughout the years of his celebrity career. This time though, he’s taking a well-deserved hiatus from the music industry and spends most of his days here in the café, helping his mother run it and meeting fans casually at sometimes. It’s quiet, and Renjun likes it.

It’s been seven years now, since his fateful decision to do a collaboration with Korean superstar. He still remembers it, and if his mother’s collage of his pictures with Donghyuck on a corkboard in the café isn’t a great reminder, then every moment when he closes his eyes is a reminder of Donghyuck.

They talk sometimes, secretly, but they have both become busy in their respective careers. Renjun’s career in China had a great spike after his gig in Korea, he almost has no time at all to even be on his phone. It’s the same for Donghyuck, he has won a daesang every year since then now.

Today, Renjun opens the café. It doesn’t open until nine o’clock, so when there’s a figure standing outside the café at six o’clock in the morning, Renjun is understandably surprised.

“ _Hello_?” He greets, careful not to engage. “ _Can I help you_?”

And it’s as if the earth has stopped revolving around the sun entirely, because everything goes in slow motion as the figure turns around and Renjun yells at himself internally for not recognizing sooner.

There’s the practiced Chinese, the hint of a smile underneath a backwards cap. “ _Hi_!” He greets, hands in his pockets when he finally reveals himself. “ _I’m Donghyuck, I’m glad to be here!”_

Maybe Donghyuck is indeed lucky, maybe this is the miracle he has been waiting for all these years. Maybe they’re meant to be.

But Renjun doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, and he steps forward, walks past Donghyuck so he can unlock the café. He smiles at him, opens the door wide enough for Donghyuck to step inside. “We don’t open until nine, but I think I can make exceptions for old friends.”

“Friend?” Donghyuck asks as he steps inside, never once his eyes leave Renjun’s face. “Just a friend?”

Donghyuck’s stepping backwards, manouvering himself around the café blindly as if he’s been here before. It doesn’t take him long before he locates the corkboard of their pictures.

Renjun doesn’t answer his question. “My mom made that. She thinks it’s the biggest achievement of my career.” He says, disappearing behind the counter to make Donghyuck coffee.

“I think so too. This Donghyuck guy’s quite the fellow, isn’t he?” Donghyuck teases, a melancholy look on his face as he gazes at their pubescent selves.

“Oh, he’s a menace.” Renjun bites back, starts to work on a latte that he doesn’t notice Donghyuck make his way over to him. “Don’t know how I dealt with him honestly.”

Donghyuck leans over on the kitchen counter, just enough so his elbows are resting on the wooden material, just enough so Renjun can be close enough to lean forward and greet him with a kiss. But Renjun doesn’t do it, not yet—more than the kisses, more than the touches, he misses this banter with Donghyuck the most, out of it all.

“I believe…” Donghyuck begins, looking at him with a grin. “That you shut him up with kisses.”

“Did I now?” Renjun looks up from the coffee, his mind really out of it and he’s working on complete muscle memory as he converses with Donghyuck. Handing him the latte, Renjun smiles at Donghyuck and bites his lip.

“You did.” Donghyuck reminds him, as if he’s ever really forgotten all the best times of his life.

This time, Renjun seals their gap with a long-awaited kiss.

Donghyuck kisses him like he missed him and missed him he did. All these years of waiting for the universe to shift its course again boils down to this. And maybe, just maybe, right in this moment with Donghyuck leaning over the counter so he can kiss him, Renjun can begin to think he’s lucky.

**Author's Note:**

> on another episode of: writing while being emotional
> 
> also this is my first time writing something remotely nsfw for nct so im :SS i hope its alright
> 
> cc: [xuxikr](https://curiouscat.me/xuxikr)  
> twt: [@renduckie](https://twitter.com/renduckie)


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